


don't touch vegeta

by moegan



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 13:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20743115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moegan/pseuds/moegan
Summary: vegeta doesn't know what to do with human touch. you're not going to let that stop you.





	don't touch vegeta

It was normal for you to tag along when Goku and the gang got caught up in some sort of crazy scheme with a new bad guy to defeat. You were their healer, after all.

Sensu beans could heal the combatants, but it was not always healthy if they were given an alternative route should the time arise.

And today, after fighting a huge, man-turned-monkey, everyone was worse for wear. Including the superhuman in question.

It took a while, but somehow, Goku convinced him to return to Earth and train together. Given that they were the last of the Saiyan race, you swear you saw some sort of light flash in the Prince’s eyes before he mellowed and spat out some retort akin to a thank you.

“You can shack up at Capsule Corp if you need a place to stay,” Bulma offers to him on the ride back to base. She smiles over her shoulder and he bristles, “You’re basically homeless now anyway.”

“Bulma!” you snap, turning to her in the driver’s seat. “The man has lost his race, have you no filter?!”

You see that his shoulders vibrate with tension, “I do not need you to defend me, woman! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, I can speak for myself.”

“Prince of Nothing, if you ask me,” Bulma mutters.

Vegeta growls in the backseat, but he’s too wounded to do much of anything towards the billionaire mechanic. Instead, he closes his eyes and evens out his breathing, and eventually you believe he falls asleep.

-

It took much time to seal up the Prince’s wounds. No one thought he was yet worthy of a sensu bean, instead opting to have you stitch him up and provide medication to help numb the pain.

You noticed as you stitched up the various gashes on his body that he whimpers in his sleep. His body moves strangely at the waist, but you realize that he’s searching for a tail long since cut at the base. Even though it shouldn’t, it saddens you for the Prince. So much lost in such little time. It can drive a man mad.

Apparently, it has.

Your body freezes as he groans and his eyes flit around behind closed lids. You instinctively reach out and cover his hand with your own, “It’s okay, it’s just me. You’re in the med bay, on a heavy dose of narcotics. You need to settle.”

“Damn Earth-woman,” he mutters, shaking his head and willfully pushing his eyelids open, “I won’t listen to your drivel. Where is Kakarot?”

You press firmly on his shoulder and he winces but falls back into the bed with little struggle thanks to the medication. You knew he’d need a large dose given his Saiyan metabolism.

“_Goku_,” you correct snidely, “is eating outside with the others.”

His upper lip curls and you’re ready for some spiteful drabble, but it never comes. Instead, he turns his head and scowls off in the distance.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you reach up and push your hand over his hair, brushing the sweat-laden tendrils out of his eyes. Before your hand can come into contact with his skin, his right arm juts out and secures your wrist in his grasp.

“What the _hell _do you think you’re doing?” he asks, glaring deep into your eyes.

You don’t back down, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’ve finally found someone to rival your stubbornness, or if it’s purely out of spite, “I’m trying to be kind. Is there no kindness where you’re from?”

“The world is unkind, woman,” he barks, tossing your hand to the wayside. Vegeta takes a breath and tilts his head, “I do not expect it to change now.”

-

You’re not sure when it happened, but at some point you quite liked it when Vegeta would show up to the medical bay for patching up. Even now, months later, he’s not entrusted with the sensu beans because there is such a small supply of them and he’s still not proven his loyalty.

“Damn Kakarot,” he winces as you stitch up a split on his bicep. You notice the puckering of pink scars all along his chest and back as you’ve walk around his body. There’s no telling where they’ve all come from.

You run your thumb over the edge of the last stitch, swallowing thickly, “You’ll get better, now that Bulma’s designed the anti-gravity room.”

Vegeta clicks his tongue against his teeth and looks away from you, “It shouldn’t take special training for me to defeat Kakarot in our sparring matches. I shouldn’t have to try this hard.”

“But you do,” you emphasize, “so just work with the tools you’ve been given.”

Vegeta rolls his eyes, “You’re so dense, woman. It should not be this way. I am Prince Vegeta, and Kakarot is…_not. _He wasn’t even raised on our home land.”

You shrug and find that while he’s distracted with his inequities, he’ll allow the gentle brush of your fingers against his scars, old and new alike. You swallow, “I think that everyone here has a role to play. I, for one, am glad that you’re not their main target.”

His head cocks to the side at this, and your finger stills against his shoulder, “And why would you say that?! Are you seriously so dense that you would want me seen as weak just so they would point the finger at Kakarot? That miserable excuse of a Saiyan?!”

You grip his bicep so hard your nails bite into his flesh. He grits his teeth but you don’t let him speak, “I’d rather them go after Goku, yes! Now shut up and let me patch your eye.”

In the heightened argument, Vegeta’s brow begins to bleed again, trickling down to his chin before dripping into his lap. You reach out with a cotton pad and brush away the crimson liquid, never missing the way his lips quirk when you touch him.

“You humans are a strange race,” he mutters, licking the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure I’ll ever come to understand you.”

-

_It’s been too long, _you think_. It’s been _far_ too long._

You swallow thickly, your eyes hot with the thoughts of what could be keeping them away. You curl up in the corner of the bench stationed on the patio, wrapping your arms around your legs and holding tight. The stars in the sky, blinking brightly, make you wonder if maybe that’s their power spiking and ebbing as they fight whatever force it is so far away.

“They’ll be back soon,” Bulma speaks soothingly, offering you a bowl of soup.

You wave your hand, your eyes never breaking away from the constellations. You roll your lips together and wish the blush away from your face.

As if the universe senses your distraught heart, a bright white flash of light appears down on the ground and two broken fighters crumble into the grass.

You’ve never sprinted faster in your life.

Your knees buckle underneath you as you join the Saiyans in the dirt, your hands roaming over the broken chest plate to touch raw flesh, blood pulsing under your fingertips.

“Woman,” he speaks weakly, “get your filthy paws off me.”

You scoff and duck your head into his neck, uncaring to the smell of blood and sweat radiating from him. You laugh through tears and he bristles under your touch, hands stilling at his hips.

“I thought you’d died,” you murmur, leaning back and taking in all of his injuries. You swallow thickly, “I-I thought I couldn’t feel your energy for a moment.”

“Oh, you think so little of me,” he winces, grasping at his side. “If Kakarot were to arrive home, so would I!”

“I know,” you speak slowly, fighting a smirk. You put your arm under his shoulders and he fights you for a moment, but practically passes out against you.

“Stupid Saiyan,” you mutter, dragging him to the med bay where you have a stash of sensu beans. “I’m always cleaning up after your messes.”

-

It took a while before Vegeta would spend time in the common rooms of Capsule Corp with the others, but once he did, you couldn’t help but to gravitate towards him.

You start with touching him on the shoulders from behind, brushing fingertips against the muscle of his back to ask a question in quiet.

“What?!” he snaps, turning so his lips brush your cheek by accident. Your entire being turns beet red, but you repeat your question anyway, “Would you like something to eat?”

And then it turns to sitting too close on the couch, knees brushing while watching the news and drinking your protein shakes and coffee respectively. When your knee strays towards his, you watch as his body tenses, and in spite alone, you press your thigh against his own and relax further into the couch. You bring the cup to your lips as a bright red tint paints his cheeks.

And then the inevitable occurs - you fall asleep against his shoulder.

You’re fully expecting him to punt you off the couch and back to your apartment room within Capsule Corp. You’re surprised when the only thing that occurs is his body completely seizing up on the couch cushions.

You flow in and out of sleep, drifting from one plane to the next. You feel heat radiating against your body, but it only brings you back to your slumbering state.

The feel of an arm around your shoulders jolts you awake but you barely pry open your eyes thanks to the darkness of the room. The television is still playing some mindless channel, but Vegeta’s arms have scooped you up and he’s started towards your room.

You try to murmur something, but your head lolls to the side and you find your nose nuzzled against his neck. You can feel his pulse hammering against your skin, but it only lulls you back to sleep.

The last time you wake is when you feel your body laid down in your bed, covered by your sheets. You reach out and grasp him by the wrist, pulling him close enough you can speak in your sleep-ridden voice.

“Stay.”

After you’ve said it, you regret it. Where did that even come from?

Vegeta’s forearm pulsates with muscle as his body tenses. A strangled noise comes forth from his throat and you swear you hear him crumble down to one knee.

You can now touch his cheek, and so you go for it. You know that in the morning you can pretend it never happened if he rejects you - you can blame it on sleep. Maybe you were dreaming? He’ll never have to know.

Your palm spreads over the expanse of his face, cupping his jaw so the tip of your index brushes his earlobe. He’s hot to the touch, both thanks to his Saiyan blood and his blushing body.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he spits, tearing his arm away from you.

Angry tears flood to your eyelids and you try to hold back a sniffle but it’s no use. You roll over and curl into yourself, digging your head into the pillows.

_It’s okay_, you think, _I’ll save myself from the nightmares._

You must have said it out loud, because Vegeta gasps next to you. It takes a moment, but you feel the bed dip beside you. Instantly, your body warms. You smile and curve your body backwards, sucking in a breath.

“You’ve come a long way, Saiyan Prince,” you murmur, reaching behind you to grasp him by the wrist. “From trying to destroy my world to saving it. From being my nightmare to making your way into my dreams.”

A grunt puffs breath onto your neck, hot enough to send a jolt down your spine, “Don’t get used to it, woman. I won’t be kind a second time.”

“I know,” you try not to be chastising. You turn your head to catch his dark eyes, glinting thanks to the moonlight filtering through your window. You repeat his words from so long ago, “The world is unkind. I don’t expect it to change.”

He is silenced by your words, thought drawing his brow and wrinkling his forehead. You take advantage of the silenced Saiyan to curl into him and savor the warmth.

For it is gone when the sun rises. As if he were never there at all.

-

You weren’t surprised that it was you to kiss Vegeta first.

Apparently, no one was surprised. Except Vegeta.

Whis returns with both Goku and Vegeta in tow, dragged behind him like sacks of flour. Their bodies are riddled with bruises and cuts, eyes swollen shut and knuckles battered beyond recognition.

“I came as soon as I could,” the angel sighs. “It appears they were badly injured prior to my arrival. I assumed a sensu bean would make things better?”

Bulma sprints off in search of the bag of sensu she keeps locked away for emergencies, but you’re focused on the Saiyan in Whis’s left hand.

“I-Is he?” you stutter, unable to feel his energy.

Whis’s face hangs low, his usually pastel skin a deep blue color. He sighs, “I grabbed them as soon as I could. You know how Lord Beerus can be. I will likely be chastised when I return to our world.”

“Thank you,” you manage. You drop to your knees and spread your hands out over his chest, looking at the bleeding wounds protruding from under his cracked chest plate. You thought Bulma had reinforced this one, but it appears you will have to make some adjustments. Perhaps a healing patch where his heart would be?

“We’ll have to chew them for them,” Bulma tells you, “they’re both unconscious and won’t be able to swallow the bean whole.”

You take the sensu bean from her hand and crush it between your teeth, forcing yourself to keep it between your molars instead of swallowing it as you’re used to doing. You lean down and take Vegeta by the cheeks, pressing your mouth to his and transferring the bean to his tongue.

After a moment, the color returns to his face and you can’t help the tears that well up in the back of your lids and threaten to spill over.

“Wh-What happened?” he croaks, trying to reach up to touch his battle wounds but unable to move his arms just yet. He looks up at you and his entire body goes hot, realizing at once just how close the two of you are.

He barely has a second to react when you thread your fingers into his hair and pull him roughly by the head to crush your mouth to his own. Vegeta’s left hand barely grazes your thigh when he comprehends what is going on and snaps away from you.

“H-How dare you?” Vegeta spats, eyes widening. His hair begins to glow at the tips, his Super Saiyan form threatening to overtake his body.

You don’t care, though, and instead you drag him so you’re hugging him around the shoulders, your shaking body sagging against him as you cry. “Shut up,” you mumble, gripping him as tightly as possible. “I thought I lost you.”

“Gross, Bulma!” you hear from across the courtyard. “I haven’t even kissed my own wife, why would I want to kiss you!?”

“It wasn’t a kiss, you oaf!” Bulma shouts back at her lifelong friend. Her eyes are bright and wide as she pokes her finger into his damaged chest, “I was simply transferring a sensu bean from my mouth to yours, nothing else! Gee whiz, for a pretty simple guy you make things too complicated.”

“I-I’m so-” Vegeta starts, your head still buried into his neck. You feel the heat of his hand hesitate before pressing flat against the small of your back. A grunt breaks up his words, and you don’t press him. You’re just thankful he’s still here.

-

“Saiyans show affection through their _tails_, Kakarot,” Vegeta explains over dinner one night. Bulma ordered in a ton of food, and they were both exhausted from a particularly long training session. “We do not do the human rituals of mating.”

You tilt your head, stabbing a shrimp and putting it between your lips. You listen, never giving input, but allowing the words to sink in as you understand how the past years he’s done nothing but recoil at your affections. You, as a human, are not sure how else to communicate how you feel, given that the Saiyan is not very articulate either.

“That explains so much!” Bulma giggles. “No wonder you don’t know what to do every time she touches you.”

Your face goes red as everyone at the table looks at you and Vegeta, sitting too close because it’s too comfortable. His foot hits yours under the table and you want your body to melt right then and there.

Instead of bowing down, you sit up straighter and try to keep your features even, “It isn’t my fault that Saiyans are incapable of understanding human affection. Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Vegeta’s ears perk at this, and a smirk paints his lips.

And from that day forward, you vow that you’re going to keep your distance. In fact, you do so for three months before you start to notice the cracks in Vegeta’s metaphorical emotional armor.

He begins to lean in closer to you when he speaks. He always makes sure no one else sits near him on the couch to watch television. He always passes the med bay after training, wondering if you’re available with a sensu bean. 

For some reason, his body feels cold at the lack of your presence. He tries fighting more with Kakarot, but that does little to fill the void. The Saiyans were a proud race, with strong women who held the families together. He’s not sure if he’s missing that, or missing you.

You’re curled up on the couch the next time you feel his touch. It’s hauntingly familiar, and a heat shoots up your spine.

Even so, in your slumber, your senses become groggy and you reach out and deck him in the jaw with a left hook.

Vegeta stumbles back and you jolt forward, profusely apologizing and fussing over the incident. You don’t miss the smirk as he stands back to his full height, fists curled by his side.

“I knew you were strong, woman,” he grits his teeth and you swear he’s in his battle stance. “I just never knew how strong. Of course, you’re nothing for a Saiyan, but for a human, you’re remarkable.”

You hide the tint on your cheeks and cross your arms over your chest.

“However,” Vegeta begins, mimicking your position, “it’s not how I would have liked to feel your touch.”

The both of you stare at each other then, and you’re unable to produce words. After the conversation about Saiyan mating rituals, you assumed Vegeta wanted nothing to do with you, given your lack of tail.

He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing. Even still, his voice sounds more like a bark than the typical man, “I did not realize how-_accustomed _I had become to you. I may not understand how humans show affection, but I think that’s what you’ve been doing. Am I wrong?”

You step forward, your lip between the bite of your teeth, “This entire time you’ve been rejecting it, recoiling from it. I decided to take the hint.”

Vegeta’s eyes squint shut and his fists tighten in front of him, knuckles turning white under the strain. He looks at you and you see the faintest of blue eyes threatening to come to the surface should he express any further frustration.

“I am not used to touch,” he admits, voice hollow. “The only touch I receive is from battle, and I did not realize how comforting it could be to have someone else’s hands tending your wounds and touching your skin. I’ve only ever had those who touch me try to harm me.”

You reach out and tentatively frame his cheek with your palm, “I do not wish to anger you, Vegeta.”

“I know that now,” his voice is still proud despite the admission. 

“Carry me?” you ask, raising both arms to rest around his neck.

Vegeta smirks, eyes closing for a moment before sweeping you up by your knees and your shoulders, cupping you close as he flies to your apartment. It isn’t far, but the wind in your hair and the stardust in the sky makes the short flight worth it.

This time, when he puts you into bed, you do not have to ask him to stay. He simply curls up behind you and waits for you to come closer. Your body is like a magnet, drawn to him in the dark. Your ankles thread together and you touch his chin with your thumb.

In an instant, your lips are on his, but the moment is short as you pull away with a small smile.

“Ah, a sneak attack,” he mutters, his free hand reaching up to touch his lips. “Not sure how I would feel about that in front of the others.”

“In front of the others?” you echo.

Vegeta nods firmly, “Hm.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you next, but whatever it is, Vegeta is impressed. Your body rolls flush with his, your lips slotted firmly against his own as your hands touch his face. It takes a moment to find some sort of rhythm, but once you’ve found it, you don’t let it go.

“Now I have to let them know that you’re mine,” he grunts against your mouth. “Can’t have that nasty old pervert of a man looking at you anymore. If he does, he’ll have to deal with me.”

You giggle, tucking your head against his neck to press a featherlight kiss there. He lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, so you do it again, but harder this time. His pulse thumps against your lips and you smirk, “I can’t wait.”

When the both of you arrive to breakfast the next morning with bedhead and hickeys, everyone starts passing around money to pay up on their bets. Turns out, you and Vegeta were inevitable.


End file.
